


Playing with Fire

by Aouregan



Series: Silent Prison [1]
Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: Crime Scenes, Gen, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22610950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aouregan/pseuds/Aouregan
Summary: The job of a forensic investigator is to remain as objective as possible, and to be the voice of the evidence. However, Horatio Caine finds that objectivity is difficult to do when he is dead set on bringing two women back home to their loved ones. When the disappearance of a university student sparks life into another case, Horatio is sure that he can bring a monster to justice and fulfill the promise he made to a grieving mother about her lost daughter.
Series: Silent Prison [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626913
Kudos: 2





	Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> In terms of timeline, this story is set during season three. Shortly after Ryan Wolfe joined the team and started to settle in and the time that Natalia Boa Vista left the FBI to join Horatio at the crime lab. For the sake of plot, I have decided to start this story in the middle of another forensic investigation, but at the start of another investigation into the disappearance of a young woman.
> 
> As Horatio is a forensic investigator, he is expected by both his peers and those within the legal system to speak for the evidence, and not for the victims or the perpetrator. He is expected to remain composed and to be as objective as possible when it comes to his job, but sometimes it is very difficult to not be subjective when it comes to working on cases.
> 
> For this story, I really wanted to explore Horatio's character as he struggles to do what is right for the victims, but also to remain as professional as he should be while on the job. Horatio always seemed to be the sort of character that never allowed for his emotions to be easily read, but everyone suffers. It's just people like Horatio seem to suffer in silence, even if it means that they are harming themselves in the long run because they can no longer cope.

Prologue

Jeanne Knowles frowned as she set down her pencil, grabbing for the book that lay in her lap before pushing it aside in favour of another that sat upon the kitchen table in front of her. She narrowed her eyes at the small print of the index, her pinkie finger going down the page as she searched for a specific name that she knew was there. Her green eyes lit up once she found what she was looking for, and soon she was flipping through the pages in search of the areas outlined by that tiny print. She picked up her pencil and tapped it thoughtfully against the table. With her brow knitted in concentration, she skimmed a page until she hit upon the name that interested her, and then quickly wrote down what she needed before continuing on to the next page.

She paused in her work long enough to take a long sip of her orange juice, then returned back to the book that was in her lap. The book was an essay written by Jacques Madaule and was about the Albigensian Crusade, and was in the original French. She had bought the book on a whim during her trip to France during the summer, and had been deeply interested in its contents enough to investigate further. She had decided to specialise in Mediaeval French history since then, and had taken a keen interest in the Crusade that had wiped out the Cathar movement and brought about the infamous Inquisition.

With careful fingers, she gently opened the book and gazed down the table of contents with the eraser of her pencil between her teeth. The book was old; one of the first copies sold in France, and the previous owner had been careless with it to the point that pages had begun to fall out. However, the book was almost sacred to Jeanne and she doubted she would ever get rid of it even if Jean-Léopold decided to get her a newer edition. Still, she couldn't help but wince as her eyes caught sight of light pencil marks in the margins and small stains on some of the pages.

She skimmed a page and smiled. This was exactly what she was looking for. She quickly jotted down a few notes on the piece of paper and continued on. The book provided her a looking window into the past that no English book regarding the same topic ever could.

She turned the piece of paper over and quickly jotted more notes, then stopped and set her pencil down to look over her handiwork. A large binder lay open somewhere under the pile of books and Jeanne impatiently pushed some aside in order to find it. As she searched for her pages of notes, muttering incoherently under her breath as she did so, one of her roommates entered the kitchen with an envelope in her hands. Jeanne recognised the neat handwriting at once and felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach.

"I found this on the mat just now," Elizabeth Burton said softly, pulling a chair out from the table so she could sit in it. She threw the envelope onto the table as though it were about to explode and looked at Jeanne with a worried expression on her face. "I seriously think we should go to the police with this."

It took awhile for Jeanne to find her voice. "No. Going to the police will only make him angry. You know what he'll do to me if I tell the police what he did..." she trailed off, unable to continue what she was going to say.

Elizabeth shook her head. "What he did was wrong, Jeanne! You know that as well as I do, and yet you refuse to go to the police because of what? Because he's sending you threatening letters! The police need to be told..."

"And what will the police do?" Jeanne retorted angrily. "The man is a highly esteemed professor at the university. It's my word against his, and who do you think they will believe? I'll be accused of making everything up."

"The police will investigate. They'll know you are telling the truth when they see the evidence. You said he took pictures and videos..."

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Jeanne screamed out. She felt as though her heart was about to thump out of her chest and found it difficult to breathe as she got to her feet, sending papers and books flying as she did so. She couldn't get the flash of the camera out of her mind; lighting up the room in brief white flashes as she lay exposed and petrified upon a cot. She forced herself to calm down and to forget what happened during those nights _he_ held her captive. It wouldn't be long until she would return to France for the rest of her schooling, and it was this thought that truly calmed her. She would be far away from this man and his threats of harm if she ever told anybody, and she knew that once she was in France that he would never hurt her again.

She quickly collected her things from the table and picked up the books and pieces of paper that had fallen to the floor. She no longer wanted to talk to Elizabeth, even if she did mean well and was right in saying she should go to the police.

"I've got to go... I need to... I need to go to school..." she murmured, more to herself than to anybody else. "I should talk to my coordinator..."

"Jeanne," Elizabeth started, but before she could continue, Jeanne had gone.

* * *

Lieutenant Horatio Caine felt the pangs of another headache shortly before the handsome old fashioned table clock struck twelve. He sighed as he set down his pen and began to massage his temples with his fingers before he gave up on it all together. Touching his head during these bouts of headaches only made the pain worse these days, and for a brief moment he wondered about whether stress was the direct cause of them.

He leaned back in his chair and looked at the mountain of folders before him. If the endless amount of paperwork wasn't the direct cause of the headache, he had no idea what was. Suddenly restless, he stood to his feet and walked over to the large window that overlooked the front of the Institute of Forensic Science building. From here he could watch his staff and some police officers come and go. His eyes followed a petite brunette that appeared from the side of the building, her attention diverted by a thick folder that she was busily leafing through. She paused long enough to shield her eyes and gaze up, her eyes catching sight of him in the window. She smiled and waved at him, quickly putting the thick folder into the black briefcase she had slung over her left arm. He watched her hurry towards the door and the woman disappeared from his sight.

Horatio inwardly groaned and quickly went back to his desk. A visit from the Assistant District Attorney was always wrought with tension. Ever since she had assumed office, Philippa Langley made her presence known in both Horatio's lab and the courtroom. He heard her knock at the door, but like usual was prevented from saying anything when Philippa opened the door herself and walked in.

"I apologise for disturbing you, Horatio," she said as she came further into the room and stood before his desk. Horatio was certain that she was not the least bit sorry for the intrusion but said nothing in response. He sat in his chair and gazed stiffly upon the lawyer who ignored the chair in front of her. "However, there is a problem that I must talk to you about and quickly."

"Oh?" Horatio said at last. He massaged his temples for a moment, urging the headache to disappear before folding his hands together upon the desk. "What is it that troubles you, Counsellor?"

Philippa pursed her lips and pulled out the folder that she had been carrying earlier. Horatio recognised the case file immediately. "It's the Camilla Humphrey case. The DNA evidence collected by one of your CSIs is inadmissible due to issues with continuity of the evidence."

Horatio frowned at her. "What do you mean? There was DNA evidence everywhere at the scene. It wasn't just limited to one area."

"I know that. However, the evidence collected by Ryan Wolfe was thrown out because the defence raised issues with the handling of evidence at your lab." She glared at Horatio for a few moments and continued on. "Have you figured out who was the contributor of the other samples collected at the crime scene?"

Horatio felt a twinge of pain run through his temple, and he quickly raised a hand to rub at the spot. "The DNA analysts are currently extracting the rest of it."

"They are still working on it?" Philippa asked incredulously. "Please tell me you are joking, Horatio. You told me that we had enough DNA evidence to take this guy to court! How am I going to explain to Camilla Humphrey's family that the psychopath that had raped and murdered her is going to be set free because of issues with the forensic investigation?"

"Surely not everything was thrown out by the judge?" Horatio asked feeling suddenly drained. "What about the knife that was tested? Or the DNA that was extracted in the semen discovered throughout the bedroom of the victim."

Philippa finally sank into a chair looking exhausted. "The evidence collected by Calleigh Duquesne is not being called into question. However, the evidence collected by Ryan Wolfe is."

That evidence included the knife, the bed sheets and some bloodstains found on the wall and floor of the bedroom. Horatio's headache seemed to suddenly worsen as this issue became larger than he had originally thought. "My analysts have extracted DNA from the victim's night dress. They are currently being run through the PCR now and will be analysed shortly."

Philippa looked relieved at this. "Alright, I can ask for court proceedings to stop for now until those results come in. I take it that Bernadette Rawlings has been working on this extraction?"

"Miss Rawlings handed in her resignation letter a week ago," said Horatio softly. "She is currently working in Oxford at a lab that specialises in ancient DNA."

For a moment Philippa didn't say anything, but when she did she sounded disappointed. "That's a shame that she chose to pursue Archaeogenetics instead of remaining within the field of forensic science. She was one of the best DNA analysts you've had."

"Yes, but unfortunately Miss Rawlings always wished to pursue her true calling. She is currently doing research on an ancient relative of the modern human, and is trying to determine the genetics to see how related we are..."

"Interesting," Philippa interrupted with her small hand held up as though she could stop his words before they escaped his mouth. "As much as I am interested in listening to your babbling about science, I have another reason for why I am here today."

Horatio eyed her suspiciously, watching as she dug into her briefcase for yet another folder and pulled it out. He felt his heart sink at the sight of it, recognising it at once.

"The Audrey Williams case?"

For several long moments Philippa didn't speak. She set the folder heavily upon Horatio's desk and appeared as though the very action of it drained her completely. For a moment she fought to control her emotions. Horatio watched her closely, alarmed at her reaction.

"What is...?"

"The Audrey Williams case is no longer a priority, Horatio." Philippa didn't look at him, taking sudden interest in her black wool skirt as Horatio felt his mouth open. "I've tried dragging the investigation..."

"What do you mean by 'no longer a priority'?" Horatio interrupted her, looking and feeling furious. "We've been getting closer to solving her disappearance. These types of investigations are not solved overnight, you know!"

"I know very well how long these investigations take!" Philippa bristled at once, her eyes locked on Horatio's with such ferocity that he had to look away. "I've been trying my best to keep this case open, Horatio. However, there is no new evidence that points us in any direction, and even the leads have stopped coming in. I have no choice in the matter, I was given orders to remove it from the priority list until something new comes up."

Horatio didn't give up in pressing the matter. "What about the phone calls made to police?"

"They went nowhere. We were led on a wild goose chase throughout Florida." Philippa fell silent for a moment, studying Horatio with a knowing look in her eyes. "I know you are trying everything you can to bring this woman home, Horatio, but she went missing two years ago and leads became scarce even then."

"I know she is out there somewhere," Horatio said stubbornly. "You may stop investigating but I won't."

Philippa played with a strand of her hair. "I don't want to stop looking for her anymore than you do." She blew out a puff of air in frustration. "I really believe that she met with foul play at the hands of somebody, but until something comes in, I am afraid the case is removed from the priority list."

"That's it then? We are to stop working on that case?" Horatio felt anger rush through him and fought hard to control himself. "We've progressed further in that case in the past two years..."

"Yes, but at what cost?" Philippa asked quietly. "We can't continue on with the searches anymore due to lack of funding, and even public interest has dwindled to barely nothing. We've investigated everything that was provided to us over and over again, but nothing is changed. The last time Audrey Williams used her debit and credit cards was the day before she went missing. She hasn't been seen or heard from since, and we've investigated everything including human trafficking or a tired university student that has had enough. We've got nothing, Horatio, and until that changes this case is closed."

"A case is never closed," said Horatio, his voice not hiding the disdain he suddenly felt for the woman sitting in front of him. "Until we bring it to a close."

"Until we get more evidence that will point to what happened to Audrey Williams, I am afraid that moving forward is quite impossible."

Horatio opened his mouth furiously but was interrupted when Detective Frank Tripp entered the office. He frowned when he caught sight of Philippa, appearing uncertain as he stood within the doorway. Horatio noticed that the detective's usual neat suit appeared crumpled, and the tie that was visible around his neck didn't cover the top button.

"I hope I am not interrupting anything." Frank said gruffly, his gaze still upon Philippa. Horatio was amused to see that the detective didn't bother to hide his animosity towards the attorney. Frank was not the type to forgive and forget the dismissal of a rapist's case due to inconsistencies with a victim's testimony. He was especially not prone to forgetting a callout to the victim's apartment some weeks afterwards when her brutalised body was discovered.

"No, not at all, as a matter of fact I was..."

"Horatio, there is a problem that I believe needs our attention," said Frank as though Philippa had not spoken. "It involves a missing university student by the name of Jeanne Knowles."

"What's...?"

"Miss Knowles roommate came to the police station to deliver these." He held up a thick pile of letters that made Horatio's heart race. "I thought I should bring them directly to you before I bring them around to Trace. I figured you'd be mighty interested with the handwriting and the name that is at the end of each letter."

Horatio quickly donned gloves and walked around his desk where Frank stood. He was happy to see that the detective had protected the evidence with a clear Ziploc bag.

He recognised the handwriting immediately. Wordlessly, he handed the Ziploc bag to Philippa Langley, and waited for her reaction.

"Are you still thinking of shutting the Audrey Williams case, Counsellor?" Horatio asked when he saw the attorney look up with an expression of shock on her face. "If so, I think you should reconsider that decision."

* * *

Jeanne Knowles had spent the day at the school library in an attempt to forget what had happened to her. She couldn't forget the argument she had with her roommate that morning any more than she could forget the terror she felt at the hands of the man that had done so much to her. She shook the images away from her memory and tried to focus on her work, but found that she couldn't even do that.

" _You tell anyone what happened and I'll kill you, understand?"_

" _You must go to the police, Jeanne."_

" _I'll make you disappear like I made so many others before you disappear."_

" _The police will help you!"_

" _Nobody will ever find your body."_

" _You can't allow him to win."_

"Hello, Jeanne."

She stiffened at the voice and felt her heart beat rapidly in her chest. It was as though he had known that she would be in the library that day, and had appeared just as she began to show a moment of weakness. She looked around at her surroundings, catching sight of her fellow schoolmates and some members of the faculty, but that made Jeanne feel worse.

He sat down in the chair beside her and moved to put his hand on her thigh. Jeanne made a wild grab for one of her books and slammed it hard on the table. The man jumped back with a snarl and an uttered oath as students and faculty within earshot looked around at them curiously.

She got to her feet, eyes blazing with hatred and grabbed for her bag before shoving her belongings within it. She grabbed for the last book that lay upon the table, only to have her wrist grabbed before she did so.

"You aren't thinking of doing what I think you are doing?" Her tormentor asked his voice low and threatening. Despite the fact that the attention she had raised with slamming her book upon the table had long faded, he chose to keep his voice at a whisper and she found she had to strain to really catch what he said. "I don't think it wise of you to do so. This isn't the first time I forced a worthless cow like you to be permanently silent."

Jeanne pulled out of his grasp and glared at him with all the hatred she could muster. "I am not going to remain silent about what you did to me. I know the police are going to be quite interested in what I have to say now that I have all the evidence against you."

She saw him shake with anger, but now that she knew that she had to do the right thing, she no longer felt terrified of him.

"You wouldn't..."

"You're nothing more than a coward that is easily intimidated because you know you can't control me," she hissed through clenched teeth. She was well aware of the fact that a young man in the next table over to her was now looking in her direction, but she no longer cared about what others thought of her. She raised her voice so that everyone in her section could hear her. "I can't imagine a more pathetic life than yours."

Without looking at him, Jeanne picked up her book and quickly walked away. She now knew what she had to do, and she felt nothing but relief because of it.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a series, but for right now, I think it is going to be limited to two stories. Over time, I will probably add some novellas and little ficlets, but I think I want two major works.


End file.
